Paranoia
by gahhMinerva
Summary: Albus comes back from a wizarding convention after an epidemic sweeps Hogwarts, and Minerva tries to make him stay in his rooms so he doesn't get sick. ADMM. One-shot.


**Disclaimer**: Um, J.K. Rowling owns Harry Potter stuff. Not me. I'm not J.K. Rowling. I'm much less cool.

**A/N: **The idea for this fic came from an incident that happened at my school, and I just decided to write it tonight. For some reason, I wrote this in first-person and in present tense. I hope you like it. If you're reading Fallen Lioness, I'm sorry for the long wait. I do hope to overcome writer's block for that story. You can try to enjoy this for now.

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**Paranoia**

The past few days had been rather busy for me. A convention for the International Confederation of Wizards pulled me away from my post as Headmaster of Hogwarts and off to Canada. There were at least one thousand wizards in attendance, some I knew, but most I didn't. The convention was interesting, and I did learn a lot, but it could not compare to the joy I find at my home, Hogwarts. Then at my hotel in Ottawa, the evening after the last of the convention's events, I received an owl from Cornelius Fudge, requesting that I go to a meeting with the Ministry of Magic the next day. Although I planned to return to the school the morning after the convention ended, I agreed to attend the meeting.

Now, the black sky hovers overhead as I tread across the school grounds. The Ministry meeting ran late due to many interruptions and Cornelius's apparent misplacement of the day's itinerary. Sometimes I wonder how the man ever got through schooling, considering his complete lack of organization skills. I do not claim to be a very orderly man, but I am always able to locate whatever it is I need. There is a method to my madness, as Minerva might say while she is attempting to tidy up my desk space.

Minerva McGonagall. I do love that woman. While most only see a frosty exterior, I am privileged enough to see her soft and gentle side. It would probably be a surprise to many that she has a wonderful sense of humor. She has made me laugh wholeheartedly on more occasions than I can count. She is such a marvelous person, and I hope I will see her tonight. As I pass by Hagrid's hut, I glance at my watch to find the time. It is eleven thirty-two, and I wonder if it is too late to visit Minerva. It is not uncommon for her to be working late, and I decide that I will check to see if she is in her office.

I walk up the steps and push open the large oak doors. They groan a bit as I shut them. The moment I turn around, a hand clasps around my arm, and I am startled. My eyes dart through the darkness of the Entrance Hall to determine my attacker.

"Minerva?" I ask, recognizing her face in the glow of the torchlight as she drags me through the hall. I wasn't expecting her to be waiting for me, let alone be forcibly escorted through the hallway. "What are you doing, Minerva?" I am quite puzzled now.

"Thank Heaven you're back! It has been hectic here while you were away, and when you didn't return this morning…" She trails off, and I realize that I never sent her an owl telling her about the Ministry meeting. That was foolish on my part. I mentally scold myself for forgetting to let Minerva know my whereabouts.

"Anyway," she says with a new briskness to her voice, "we must get you to your office quickly. You have to stay there until I tell you it is safe to leave." She continues to pull me along, and I finally give in and speed up my pace to match hers.

"Safe? What are you talking about?" I am growing more and more bewildered by the second. Alarms sound in my head, and I question what sort of terrible thing has happened to the school. Surely there hadn't been an attack – I would have heard about that. All sorts of ideas flow through my brain, and I cannot figure out what has Minerva so riled up.

"You're lucky you haven't been here! Oh, it's been horrible."

"Why? What happened?" I ask, waiting for her to explain.

"You'll be happy to know that I am having Filch clean the entire school very thoroughly. He promised to work throughout the night, but he didn't seem too pleased that I asked. I don't blame him, though; he's been working overtime lately," she continues without answering my question.

"All night? What is going on here?"

She doesn't respond, but rather, she stops abruptly. I jolt to a halt and realize that we have reached the stone gargoyle that guards my office. She speaks the password, and the gargoyle leaps aside. The wall behind it halves itself to reveal a room with a spiral stone staircase. I follow Minerva onto the stairs, which elevate by themselves. At the top, I expect Minerva to open the door, but instead, she pulls out her wand. I stare curiously as she casts a spell which opens the door. Then she scurries into my office, and I am a few steps behind her.

In her hand is an aerosol can, and she is spraying something everywhere: on the shelf, on the chair, on the doorknob – literally everywhere. I stand rooted to the spot, somehow more perplexed than I was before.

"Minerva… what are you doing?" I ask tentatively, thinking for a fleeting second that the woman I love has lost her marbles. "What is that?"

"What, this?" she says, stopping suddenly and pointing to the can in her hand. "It's a Muggle product called Lysol. It's supposed to kill germs." She turns and sprays my desk.

I am still confused. Why is she so worried about germs all of a sudden? Has she always been afraid of germs? Perhaps this is a phobia I just haven't recognized before. I frown in utter bewilderment and watch her spray Lysol all over my office. I pull a lemon drop out of my pocket and pop it into my mouth, and I begin sucking the candy pensively.

Minerva whirls around and looks appalled when she sees me consuming my sweets. For a moment, she looks at a loss for words, and then she finds her voice.

"Albus! What are you doing? Have you washed your hands? You must wash your hands!" she cries out in a panic. Then she whips out her wand. "Oh, no matter. _Scourgify_!"

Soap bubbles appear all over my hands and quickly vanish. Sparkles are left behind in the air. I am gape stupidly at her, my mouth hanging wide open with the lemon drop resting on my tongue. I wonder what on Earth was going on. Now she is replacing her wand in her robes pocket, and it is only just now that I notice she is wearing her Welsh Green dragon skin gloves, which she only wears when handling the porcupines for her Transfiguration class. There are no porcupines in my office, and now I want to inquire why she is wearing them. Before I can ask, however, she continues to speak.

"I cannot let you eat that, Albus. Your fingers were probably _covered_ in germs when you put that in your mouth." She looks disgusted as she says that and she brings the wastebasket over to me. "Come on, spit it out now."

I comply reluctantly.

"Minerva, will you please tell me what is going on here?" I ask pleadingly, not wanting to be left in the dark any longer. She looks into my eyes and sighs, sinking into the nearest chair.

"While you were away," she begins, "a sort of stomach virus swept through the school. I've never seen anything like it! It is _insane_, Albus. Do you have any idea how many students were out of classes today?"

I shrug and shake my head, finally coming to understand the situation.

"Sixty-two percent," she says. "Sixty-two percent! Albus, more than half the student body is sick. I think I've sent more students to Madam Pomfrey than I have ever in my entire teaching career. It is impossible to conduct a proper lesson with so few students in class." She sighs dejectedly, likely feeling upset that education has been disrupted so. "It's not just the students, either. Professor Vector has it, and so does Professor Sprout, and she's been outside in her greenhouses all day! Professor Sinistra has got it, and I think Severus is falling ill, too."

"Did you get sick?" I ask. I am hoping she did not, because I'd feel bad for not being there for her. I could not have known, but I cannot help but feel this way. I suppose I just want to take care of her if she needs me, and even when she doesn't.

"No, thankfully," she tells me. "I'm almost surprised I haven't. I suppose it has to do with my paranoia about the disease – I'm wearing gloves, as you can see. I refuse to touch anything really. But Poppy's enlisted my aid a couple times when the Hospital Wing was full to bursting with students. I've been around so many ill students it's a wonder I'm not sick, too." She yawns.

"Tired?" I say, when I know she is. I can see her eyes are drooping ever so slightly as she nods.

"A bit," she admits.

"Then you should head off to bed, dear. It sounds like you've had a chaotic week, and I'm sure you need the rest. It's late anyway, and I've kept you up waiting for me. I think it is time for both of us to retire for the night."

"All right," she says, nodding her head. I extend my arm to help her up, and with her gloved hand, she accepts my offer. "Good night, Albus."

"Good night, Minerva," I say softly and she exits my office. Trusting that she is going straight to bed, I decide to do the same.

* * *

I wake up a few hours later, in the middle of the night. I blink my blue eyes open and wonder what time it is. My watch is on the bedside table, and I reach to grab it. It is two forty-three, I learn, and I replace my watch on the table. I adjust my position and try to fall back asleep. 

Only I can't, which is strange for me. My sleep is normally one continuous action for eight or so hours, with no interruptions. The rare times I do wake, I can easily recapture my sleep. I toss and turn under the covers, and I cannot seem to get comfortable. I am tired but cannot sleep, and sleep is all I want because my stomach is beginning to hurt. I don't feel so well, I realize, and I think to get up and find a potion, or go to the bathroom. I feel too tired and too weak suddenly, and I just lie in bed, hoping to feel better or catch some shuteye, at least.

This must be what Minerva was talking about earlier, and I am a bit worried now. She did not tell me how severe the illness is or what any of the symptoms are. I hope that I am not actually ill, and I am just imagining that I am. I know I am not imagining anything though, and I turn over again. Soon I notice that Fawkes, my phoenix, has flashed into the bedroom. He lands next to me on the bed cocks his head to one side, with the concerned expression I have only seen a few times during our long friendship.

"Get Minerva, please," I murmur. I know she is probably asleep and I shouldn't wake her, but right now I want her at my side. Perhaps I am selfish for wanting this, but I don't feel well, and I am sure she will be here for me, just as I would for her.

Fawkes disappears in a burst of light, and I bury my head into the pillow, hoping Minerva comes.

Sooner than I expect, Fawkes returns and Minerva is right behind him. In her tartan dressing gown and long dark hair flowing over her shoulders, she hurries to my side. With a wave of her wand, all of the lights are on, and she brings her hand to my forehead.

"Albus, are you all right?" she asks, brushing some wisps of my white hair out of my face. "Fawkes came and brought me here, so I assumed something was wrong…" She looks at me with a worried look in her green eyes.

"What were the symptoms of that virus?" I ask quietly, not even lifting my head to speak to her. "Because I don't feel very well…" I struggle to sit up. Minerva helps me, and once I am upright, I place my hand on my stomach, hoping to calm it.

"Oh dear," Minerva says. She must be realizing that my stomach is the problem. "Do you feel nauseous?"

I nod and embrace my abdomen with one arm.

"Just a bit," I tell her, and she sits on the edge of the bed next to me. Merlin, she is so close. She picks up my half-moon spectacles from the table beside my bed and places them on my face.

"Can I get you anything?" she offers. "I can get you a potion from Poppy, if you'd like."

I say that I'd like a potion, but I'd rather she didn't leave. She stays and conjures me a glass of water, which I accept graciously. I take a couple sips, and then she takes it and places it on the bedside table. For a few minutes we are silent.

"Albus, I think I should get you the potion. This illness seems to come on fast," she explains. "Lie down again and rest. I'll be back in a few minutes."

I agree and slide down under the blankets. She squeezes my hand and leaves, and I am left alone. That is, until Fawkes returns to the room, and he sings softly to me. I feel a little better as he serenades me, and my stomach is under control, at least for a few minutes. However, I start to feel sick again, so I close my eyes slip farther under the covers. I don't feel like getting out of bed.

To my surprise, Minerva reappears in the fireplace instead of through the door. She is carrying a vial of a pink solution, which must be the potion she got from Poppy. I am relieved that she has returned with the potion, and also glad that she is simply here. She smiles at Fawkes, who is still singing quietly. As she walks over, I push myself to sit up.

"Thank you," I whisper when she hands me the vial. I drink the potion, which has a sour taste and burns going down. I don't want to drink all of it, but since it is supposed to help me, I do.

"It acts slowly," Minerva says. "She ran out of the quicker kind yesterday, and Severus was supposed to brew some more."

I nod, but I wish it would act faster. My stomach is rolling, and I think I might be sick. Fawkes flies toward me and continues to sing, and Minerva hums along with the phoenix. Together the sound is quite soothing to me, but I still don't feel well. Minerva puts her arm around my shoulders and asks if I'm all right. I say yes even though that is a lie. I tell her that I am just tired. She doesn't believe me.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asks skeptically. "You're pale."

"I'm all right," I insist, and then I say, "as long as you're here with me."

Minerva blushes.

"Albus…" she murmurs, but I continue.

"I hope you don't mind that I ask this," I say, "but could you stay with me for the rest of the night?" I don't know where I get this audacity, but I have already asked.

"…Of course," she says, and I smile.

"Thank you." I pause. "You're wonderful, Minerva."

"Not as wonderful as you," she tells me.

"I love you," I say earnestly, and her eyes widen.

"Y-you do?" she asks in disbelief.

"With all my heart," I answer, and she throws both arms around me.

"I love you, too, Albus," she cries. "I've… I've wanted to tell you that for so long."

"Will you let me kiss you when I'm healthy?" I ask.

She kisses me now. I thought she was paranoid about germs, but I suppose she does not care right now. I care if I get her sick, but then I can take care of her and share my love for her, openly and freely, like I dreamed. I kiss her back, and already, I am beginning to feel much better.

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**A/N**: So I hoped you liked that. I personally thought it started out okay and then I just got lazy and hurried the end. Please review and let me know what you think. If you found any glaring mistakes, please let me know. I was too tired to proofread this properly, and I wanted to put up something before any Fallen Lioness readers thought I died hah. 


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